Текст песни Серёга Гран - Счастливый билет

My winning ticket, it's the music underground
The truth in the verses that takes time
Do not be stoned to bring the truth
The third stage in Battle I pass on
Wiping the feet of our masks on their faces
As long as you shave Patli I stand with battles
Everyone who does not believe in a forty-five caliber
Hide the dummy, you have piled in sneaker shit
Whole the beds lie down, straight face into a puddle
I fuck the cold I even draped in cold
I dwell where you ohueesh from the cold
in their native area is not necessary to write a reason
for me this music is like a second mother
as the smell of cones and heel for Pra (Killa'Gramm) 'and
Nala is not necessary from the heart to the masses
from the heart in your ears is not the ruble in cash

my lucky ticket pass in the fourth round
your head guys scatter ashes
let me swear not as without it
tucked their tails bitch sebёtes nowhere
shall add more bass in your speakers
boys in padikah pizdaboly in panic
these lines as a fire at the North Pole
flames inside prevents freezing in the cold
your sophomoric and slurred speech
in the third round it was your time to be laid up
More at least until the final 2 stages
I continue to drain the calories in the comfort of the shade
opponent in the blood carries a woman to refrain
These fluctuations on long then believe me
you stay here your shit do not channel
3raund let the judge decides to close.